Sherlock Solutions
by ScottishBlueDragon
Summary: A series of one shots about the BBC show Sherlock. (1) Soulmates
1. Soulmates

**Disclaimer : I do not own Sherlock. **

**1) Soulmates **

_**When you are ten, a mark appears on your palm of your right hand. It is a name of the person you will complete and destiny will make sure that it will happen. It is nothing romantic. Just, who will be your best friend. **_

* * *

Sherlock Gets His Name

Sherlock Holmes was celebrating his tenth birthday. However, his family do not celebrate birthdays but his mother will come into his room at noon to sit with him as his name appears on his right hand.

Sherlock was sitting on his bed, little legs hanging over the edge, and he was looking in the mirror, believing that his hand would be blank, that no one would want to be his best friend. Ever.

On the dot of twelve, his mum walked into his room and sat down beside him.

"Are you excited?" she asked, already knowing the answer. Her son had been dreading this for months.

"No, my hand will be blank" said Sherlock as he lay his right hand flat against his thigh and turned his head.

"Look again" said his mum and Sherlock looked into time to see an invisible hand write the name on his palm.

"John" whispered Sherlock, and he slowly began to stroke his hand.

* * *

John Gets His Mark 

On John's tenth birthday, at noon, he was surronded by his family, eating through food and opening presents. His sister, Harriet, was over by the phone talking to somone. She was fifteen, and was looking for her Clara. The clock struck noon and a blur appeared on John's hand, and slowly, as if someone were writing it, the name appeared.

"Who the hell names their kid Sherlock, I mean, is that even a boy or a girl?" asked John's Grandad.

'Sherlock' thought John, looking down at the name.

"Come on Johnny, my present next" said Harry, hanging up and skipping over to her little brother.

It was to distract him from noticing that his parents went to talk about the name.

* * *

They Meet

"Bit different from my day" commented John as he followed Mike Stamford into a lab in Barts hospital.

"You've no idea!" joked Mike as John caught sight of a man glancing up at them before reaching over and checking his phone.

"Mike, can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine" said the man.

"And what's wrong with the landline?" asked Mike.

"I prefer to text."

"Sorry," said Mike, after a check of all his pockets, "it's in my lab coat."

"Here, use mine" said John, digging it out and handing it over. The man took it with a quick "Thank you" and started to text.

"This is an old friend of mine, Doctor Watson" said Mike, pointing at John.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?" asked the tall man. John frowned.

"Sorry?" asked John, looking at the man as he placed his phone on the table.

"Which was it, in Afghanistan or Iraq?" asked the man.

"Afghanistan, sorry, how did you know?" asked John just as a woman entered.

"Ah! Coffee, thank you. What happened to the lipstick?" asked the man, grabbing the cup from her hand.

"It wasn't working for me" answered Molly, blushing slightly. She turned to look at John.

"Really? It was a big improvement. Your mouth's too small now" said the man, placing the cup down and grabbing his coat.

"Molly, this is my friend, Doctor Watson" said Mike, quickly. Molly went to shake John's hand. Her eye caught sight of the name.

"Your name?" she whispered as she grabbed his wrist and held it up to her eye.

"What of it?" asked John.

"I said, what is your name?" asked Molly.

"John" answered John. The nameless man lifted his head, and looked at John, eyes wide.

"How do you feel about the violin?" he quickly asked.

"What?" asked John.

"I play the violin when I'm thinking and sometimes I don't talk for days on end. Would that bother you?"

"No, why?" asked John.

"Today is your lucky day, or unlucky, that's your choice" said Molly and she finally let go of John's wrist.

"My name is Sherlock Holmes" said the man, holding his hand, which had John written on it.

"Mine's is John" said John, taking his hand.

* * *

Scotland Yard Finding Out

After Mrs Hudson's delighted scream and, for a woman of her age, to physcially throw herself on John in delight, both men wanted to wait a while before telling anyone else.

As most plans go, it didn't work.

Sherlock dragged John to a crime scene. They managed to avoid people discovering that they had found each other until Greg noticed something.

They way they moved around each other.

"No way" he whispered, eye wide looking at them.

"What?" asked Sherlock, irritated.

"Show me your hands" said Greg. Sally and Anderson, who were in the room with them, stared at them.

"Why?" asked Sherlock.

"Just do it" ordered Greg. Sharing a look Sherlock and John held out their left hands.

"No, the other one" said Greg. They switched from left to right.

"Well done Sherlock" smiled Greg. Sherlock huffed and went back to investigating the body.


	2. Cabbie Killer

**Disclaimer : I do not own Sherlock. **

**2) Cabbie Killer**

**A different meeting between Sherlock and John.**

Slowly, bit by bit, John Hamish Watson's life was falling apart. First his mum and dad hate him because he joined the army. His sister a heavy drinker. Then he got into a habit while being in the army. And then he got shot and sent home with PTSD.

John was stuck living in a rundown flat with damp, supplied by the army, and sent to a therapist one every three days.

And now there was an idiot of man telling him to take a pill and was pointing what was obviously a fake gun at him. John was ready to shoot himself with boredom.

John suddenly realised that he was not bored, not bored at all. For the first time in a while, John's leg did not hurt and his hand was very still.

"You think you are so smart?" asked John. The cabbie blinked.

"Whatever do you mean?" asked the cabbie.

"Your gun is a fake. Now this" said John, pulling his gun from his pocket, "is what you would call a gun." He saw the cabbie flinch. He slowly raised his hands, dropping his toy.

"Also, I can see another jar in your pocket, which is telling me that both of these are fake and somehow you will be able to complete a switch without me noticing" said John.

"Oh, and I didn't call for a cab. You just pulled up next to me, and offered me a ride. I tried to say no, and you wouldn't leave me. I was curious" said John, "And I also phoned the police."

Sure enough, blue lights started to flash outside the window. And for first time, the cabbie started to hear footsteps.

The door flew open, and three people ran in. A woman and two men.

"Put down the gun" said the greying man.

"No, don't" said the taller man in the large coat.

"Sherlock" whispered the man.

"No, the man with the gun is the victim" said Sherlock.

"Your Sherlock Holmes" said the cabbie, turning in his seat. John resisted the urge to fire.

"Yes, and you are?" asked Sherlock.

"A employer of your fan" said the cabbie.

"I don't have fans" said Sherlock.

The cabbie shook his head.

"Yes, you do" said the cabbie, and he made to stand up. But a clicking noise echoed. And he sat down again, only for John to stand up.

"Don't move and explain" he said, slowly moving around the table, the gun pointing at the cabbie.

"Lestrade, Donavon, it might be best if you left for now" said Sherlock. The other two shared a look and left.

An hour later, the cabbie was being pulled out the building by John and Sherlock. The police stared in shock as the two men were smiling.

"Anyway, I play the violin whenever I feel like it, I don't talk for days and I am one of two most hated men in London" Sherlock was saying.

"I had PTSD, an irritable leg and hand, I make a load of tea in moments of stress and I have temper issues" the stranger said.

"So, tomorrow at 2, 221b Baker Street" said Sherlock as he handed the cabbie to Lestrade.

"See ya" said John and he left.

"What just happened?" Anderson found himself asking. Sherlock turned to look at him.

"I just found myself a flat mate, if you must know" said Sherlock, and he turned to the cabbie, "thanks for the name."

"What did you do to him?" asked Lestrade.

"Me? Nothing, it was down to John" said Sherlock and he began to leave.

"John? The madman with the gun?" asked Sally.

"Madman? No, he's not mad" said Sherlock, turning to face Sally.

"Then what is he?" asked Sally.

"Someone, for the first time since I can remember, I can stand and like."

And with that Sherlock turned and left.

"I have a feeling we will be seeing more of this John" said Lestrade.

**I accept ideas, just to let you know.**


	3. Mother and Father

_Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock _

**Sherlock Solutions  
3) Mother and Father**

* * *

**John's parents disowned him when he joined the army and so he didn't tell them when he had been shot, this is their discovery of it.**

* * *

Maria Watson and George Watson were the perfect couple. George was a lawyer and a very good one at that while Maria stayed home and worked in the house and wrote articles for an online newspaper.

Maria Watson and George Watson were not the perfect parents. They had plans for both their children, which fell through. Harriet Joan Watson was going to be author, with a husband and children. John Hamish Watson was going to be well earning Doctor with a wife. On John's sixteenth birthday, the truth about their children came out.

Harriet, now eighteen, had dyed her hair from the beautiful blonde it was before into a dark brown and started to date a girl from her class. John announced that he wanted to be an army Doctor.

He and George got into a massive argument which ended with John packing a bag and moving in with his grandparents, refusing to even look at his parents. Harry, as she wanted to be called, got into fights with her Dad, which ended when she said that she would do the same as John and they would lose both of their children. George and Maria learned to accept Harry for who she is.

* * *

Years have passed since John last talked to his parents, and Maria was sipping her coffee while George went through some of his papers when the sound of the post box rang through the house.

"I'll get it" said Maria as she placed her cup onto the table, and went to get the newspaper and mail.

She walked back into the kitchen, sorting through the bills and opening the newspaper to the front cover.

"Oh my god!" she screamed and she threw the newspaper to the ground. George quickly grabbed the newspaper and froze. His son was staring at him from the photo.

George quickly scanned the article before he slowly placed the newspaper down and grabbed his phone, phoning Harry.

"Why is your brother in London?" George asked as Maria slowly read the article.

"Because he is" answered Harry.

"No, I thought he was in a war zone? When did he come home?" asked George.

"A few years ago, he was injured in battle and sent back" said Harry.

"Injured in battle!" yelled George. Maria stared up at her in shock. George quickly put his phone onto speaker phone

"Yeah, he was shot" said Harry, her parents heard her take a sip of something.

"How do you know this, darling?" asked Maria.

"He put me down as he emergency contact, so I was phoned while he was in a coma and was made to take care of him before he ran out and into a motel, and then to Sherlock Holmes" said Harry.

"He was mentioned in the article" noted Maria and she looked at the other man in the photo.

"Yeah, hes sort off different from other people" said Harry.

"Different good or bad?" asked Maria.

"Depends on who you ask, but I've been told that he and John really hit it off or something from a strange man who keeps filling me in on John" said Harry.

"Why didn't you tell us about all this while it was happening?" asked George.

"He asked me not to."

* * *

George and Maria were with Harry and Clara in London, for a day trip when they saw a crime scene. Harry recognized the woman at the tape and saw the DI guy was on the phone. She saw him mouth Sherlock.

"Do you want to see John in the flesh?" Harry asked. Clara looked at Mr and Mrs Watson, who both nodded.

"Hide, and somewhere you won't be caught easily" said Harry. The four of them ran into a nearby alley where they can see the crime scene clearly, and not be seen in return.

A taxi pulled up and the man from the crime scene ran from it. They could see the silhouette from the taxi as it handed the driver some money and got out the taxi. Maria gasped when she saw John approach the tape. John nodded to the woman an approached his room mate as he circled the body. The three men kept talking to each other, and eventually, they left.

"I want to talk to him" said George, standing up again. Harry looked at him.

"Are you mad? John will shoot you, and won't regret it" said Harry. Clara nodded.

"He's isn't the same person Dad" said Harry. George glared at her and walked away from her, determined to talk to his son. Grabbing his phone, he looked for John's blog and found the address of John.

* * *

George stood at the front of door of 221B Baker Street. He took a deep breath and raised his hand, only to lower it. He mentally yelled at himself. He raised the hand again only for the door to fly open and he found himself face to face with the famous Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock ran his cold eyes up and down George before he narrowed his eyes and slammed the door in his face. George blinked twice. He placed his ear against the door.

"Sherlock?" he heard his son ask. George smiled, he felt people come up behind him, and saw Maria beside him. She smiled.

"What are you doing?" she asked, quietly. George lifted his finger to his lips.

"What do you mean by my parents? I have never told you of my parents?" said John, Maria muffled her gasp.

"They are right outside. And you father was demonstrating all the signs of being nervous" said Sherlock.

"Why would he be nervous?" asked John, "he hasn't seen me since I was teenager" said John.

"I think he might be here to apologize for the way he treated" said Sherlock.

"George Watson never apologizes" said John and they heard footsteps. The front door was opened and John quickly stepped back as his parents fell to the welcome mat.

"I never told them!" John heard Harry yell, "they saw the newspaper article and got curious." John stared at her before he ran back upstairs.

"You better come in" sighed Sherlock ad he ran upstairs after John. The four of them entered the flat upstairs. Sherlock was standing on a second set of stairs, which led to a closed door. He signaled them to go into the living room.

"John, they just want to talk to you and if they upset you, I can get Mycroft to them" said Sherlock. They heard muffled laughter before a noise of a door opening and footsteps into the living room, where the group of four awkwardly stood.

"Sit on the sofa" said Sherlock as he fell onto a chair, John copied him, avoiding looking at his mother and father.

"John, I am so sorry about what happened those years ago" said Maria. John looked at the fire.

"We just wanted to keep you safe. If you had gone to war, you could have been killed..." said George

"I did go to war, I did safe all those lives and I was injured!" yelled John, standing and suddenly very very furious, "I got sent home, with PTSD and nobody I could properly trust to turn to! So I guess you were right!"

"And I was going to end with I was wrong" finished George.

"Wait, what!" yelled John and Harry together.

"You both have made me very proud, if you did not follow the plans we have set for you. Harry, you are stopping drinking and trying to get back together with your wife. John, you went to war, saved a lot of people and are know part of very famous crime fighting duo" said George. Harry and John stared at each other.

"So, John, I am here to say that I am very sorry for how I treated you when you told us what you wanted to do with your life."

"Er, okay" said John, "but I am so sorry that you have to leave."

"Leave?" asked Maria.

"Yeah, so sorry," said Sherlock, "your mother wants to invite us to dinner next week, we accept and now come on John, we have a murderer to catch!"

Sherlock ran out of the flat. John shrugged.

"See you next week, ask Mrs Hudson down stairs for our number, see ya!" and John ran downstairs, and George saw a gun as his coat flew out behind him.

He and Maria shared a look.


End file.
